


Shame Can Wait

by TheWetBatling



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Desperation, Masturbation, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Porn Watching, Urination, bed peeing, dressing room peeing, elevator pee, laundry pee, naughty pee, security footage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-07 00:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15206711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWetBatling/pseuds/TheWetBatling
Summary: Damian loves watching desperate people on film, maybe even more than he likes being desperate himself.





	Shame Can Wait

It'd been months since he'd let himself indulge in what he knew was heavily regarded as verging on criminal. He knew he was toeing a line with the videos he liked to watch and he understood more intimately than he wanted to what had caused all of his little sexual quirks. Some part of him knew that pieces of it weren't actually his fault and that yet others were. All the same, the fact remained that when he didn't indulge, he _craved_ and he'd learned twice in his life what leaving that craving to fester did to him.

Collecting his very old laptop from the depths of his closet, Damian double-checked that his door was locked and moved to the corner of his bedroom, settling just to the side of the window, his back pressed into the corner. Crossing his legs, he turned on the computer and sat there, idly drumming his fingers on the keyboard as he waited on it to boot.

Logging in, he gave it another few minutes to settle, knowing if he tried to just start watching things he'd get frustrated from the way it would freeze every few seconds. Once the hard drive light stopped blinking, he made sure it was connected to his phone's hot spot instead of their local internet connection, and then launched his browser, opening a random book site and then launching a secondary window in private browsing mode. 

His hips shifted up a few times, pushing him against the underside of the computer until he finally settled, typing in the site he really wanted to go to and logging in. His breath stuck in his throat at even seeing the main page, the horribly bright yellow background and the myriad of ads, all of them geared toward exactly what he wanted. He clicked into the forum instead of the videos area and sifted through the threads until he found a few he knew would get his engine really going.

The first thread was entitled _Where Have You?_ and Damian squirmed a little, thinking about all the places he'd thought about, though he'd only ever indulged in one and the shame he'd felt for weeks afterward left him wary to try anything again. 

About twenty people had added to the thread in some meaningful way, most of them talking about things like the garden or their living room. One person admitted to using a dressing room and how they'd gotten off right afterward and a few chimed in about having wanted to try that and feeling too guilty to do it. But the post that caught Damian's attention the most was one about a hotel room, the person explaining that for years they'd been a traveling business associate and been in and out of anything from five star hotels to the seediest joints imaginable and one day, in the crappiest of crappy hotel rooms, they'd taken the plunge due to - of all things - a broken toilet. 

Damian nearly squirmed as he read through the person's description of what they'd done and _where_ , feeling the tingle of arousal sliding through his body in a way he hadn't in far too long. He left the thread and pulled up the second one he'd opened, scrolling through it and finding nothing new that was of interest in it. 

Closing that one as well, he finally clicked on the video section and immediately typed in _hotel_ , excitement at the prospect of such a naughty thing pounding in his veins. 

He opened a few videos, made sure his sound was almost all the way down - but not quite - and then hit play on the first one.

It was grainy security footage - one of Damian's favorite indulgences as it included both his love of voyeurism and _this_. A girl looked around, presumably making sure the area was free of people, and then she moved to the corner next to a potted plant and shucked her shorts down her legs to her knees, crouching beside the planter. It took a minute before anything could really be seen since the camera was on the other side of the planter, but eventually a little puddle started to spread from behind the planter, the tile floor glistening where she was emptying her bladder. 

She finished and redressed and the video cut. Damian closed the window and moved on to the next one, also security footage. This one was an elevator in what was clearly a Halfway Inn, the distinctive carpet giving it away. The elevator doors opened and two girls dashed in, one of them already clutching at her crotch, the other clearly laughing, though there was no sound. The moment the doors closed, the first one ripped her pants down and started peeing before she even managed to properly squat. It took a moment, but the second girl finally squatted down as well, pulling her shorts to the side and peeing from the leg hole onto the carpeted floor, the patch under her darkening with her urine.

Damian bit back a whine, squirmed a bit more, watched until they were empty, and then started scrolling through more of the search results, opening a few more that featured carpet, one that proudly proclaimed they'd pissed the couch, and one more that boasted new uses for hotel beds. 

He hit play on another carpet one, watching a girl bounce in an office chair, her hand stuffed against her crotch. 

Sliding his hand down between the laptop and himself, he cupped his groin, let himself flex his hips to push toward his hand, rocking his erection against his fingers. 

Some part of him still was torn between accepting his kinks and feeling like _trash_ for them. He longed for these videos, loved seeing people indulge like this, got off harder when he watched them. But he was also achingly aware that they were not allowed to be sold in any shop in his county; that the fetish was considered to be just as filthy as bestiality and had thus been banned. It wasn't illegal to _download_ specifically, but it still left him in a difficult position. If someone were to find out he was watching this sort of thing not only would he have to deal with their judgement, with his own shame, but also with the very real threat that if it were _Bruce_ he'd probably freak out as if Damian had found it and purchased it in a store in Gotham.

On screen, the girl gasped and let out a panicked little cry, surged up from the chair but never made it all the way before she started to piss. Her stream sprayed across the carpet in front of the chair, hitting so hard the sound of it was obvious even with his speakers on low. His hand tightened around his cock as he watched, listening to her forceful piss until she sighed and dropped back down onto the chair with a little, "Oops!"

He closed the video and switched to the bed one, finding the same girl, another hotel room, and it hit him right in his dick that she clearly did this a lot. She was sitting on the bed, the fluffy comforter still on it, her little white skirt all bunched up so he could see her ass, noted that she wasn't wearing panties. She rocked and squirmed in a way that Damian knew intimately and he watched her progress in desperation over the course of the next fifteen minutes until she dropped the TV remote she'd been using to flick through channels and let out a startled cry, falling forward on her hands, showing her rear to the camera just as she started to pee. It gushed out of her, full-force, splashing onto the comforter so fast that it couldn’t absorb it quickly enough and it started to pool between her knees, making the sounds of her urinating even louder. 

When she finished, she just let out a relieved sigh and then sat right back down in the pool of her pee, picking up the remote and starting to flip channels again. 

Damian let out a tiny little groan, jerking himself off through his pants until his hips were rocking and then he let go, moving on to the desk drawer. 

This one he found instant arousal in as the drawer opened, a notepad for _their_ hotel nestled in the drawer. The notepad was removed and a few pages torn off, set aside, the rest of the notepad flopping back into the drawer. He heard the sound of a zipper being undone and then the camera angle shifted and a very nice cock was presented, rested over the edge of the drawer as the owner hummed softly, flexed their hips forward, and then sighed as they began to urinate. 

The sound of it hitting the drawer was incredibly loud and Damian watched as their piss soaked the notepad, filled the rest of the small drawer until it was the sound of them pissing on their own puddle. They shook off when they were finished and the drawer was carefully shut, the camera set on the dresser, and turned toward them. A few seconds and then they were jerking off, whispering, "Oh god," over and over as they went after themselves so quickly that Damian was convinced this wasn't at all for show but more because they couldn't stand not to get off after doing that.

He popped the button on his own jeans, eased the zipper down, and reached inside to cup his aching length through his boxer briefs instead. His cock throbbed and he knew if he wasn't careful he would overstimulate and cum without actually jerking off. 

Tipping his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes and just listened to the guy frantically stroking his cock, to the grunts and moans, and he let his imagination run away with him. All the times he'd wanted to indulge and couldn't convince himself to do it. All the seedy ass places he'd been that he probably could have gotten away with it; bathrooms that were already disgusting, the drug houses they'd busted - specifically one a few weeks before that had already smelled like urine - and god, all the hotels. Ones they owned and ones they didn't. Places while on patrol that he just wanted to empty his bladder on, had narrowly avoided having accidents on in the past. The first few years of trying to train his bladder to wait the whole night on patrol had been near torture. He'd almost wet himself half a dozen times, had barely made it to the restroom each of those times, and he'd always seen the irritation in Bruce's face when he'd come back from having relieved himself and he knew it was only because he'd taken up precious patrol time. 

There'd been a brief few weeks where he'd thought perhaps his father held the same fetishes he did, that maybe he'd been disappointed Damian hadn't wet himself, but he'd discarded that after a very irritable discussion in which Bruce had reprimanded him for wasting time and not having enough self-control. 

For weeks, he'd laid off fluids to the point he was desperate for a drink when he got home from patrol, trying to keep himself from needing to pee, and even that had failed most of the time, his body just too used to going during a certain time. It had taken a while, but he'd retrained it, given it new time periods to be allowed to pee within and it had eventually taken to the new routine, only occasionally giving him fits in the field. 

Tonight, he'd been achy, his bladder overly full when he'd gotten home, but he hadn't gone. Instead, he'd finished his reports and he'd come in here, settled down to watch porn of people doing exactly what he needed to instead of doing it himself. 

Damian freed his cock, gave it one tentative stoke, and then moved back to his laptop, ignoring the one video he'd opened and typing in a few more search terms. He opened a few other windows and finally found the video he knew he wanted to cum to. 

On screen, two boys, probably early twenties settled onto a plush peach colored couch together. The slimmer one settled astride the other boy's lap, leaned in and started kissing him while he fumbled between them, opening his own pants. Their lips broke apart long enough for him to whisper, "I need to go so bad." The one he was straddling just smirked and then kissed him again, this time holding his hair to keep him in place.

There was some squirming and then a very familiar cant to the boy's hips and then the sound of him urinating. The cameraman moved and Damian could see the pee splashing down into the other's lap, all over the bottom of his shirt, and down onto the couch, rolling off over his hips and wetting it, making the material a darker orange. 

When he was done, the bottom boy tipped his head back, arched his hips, and then sighed. His urine stream was visible through his pants, the stream of it flowing against his zipper and puddling between his legs on the couch while the first boy started stroking his cock.

The scene shifted and both of them had their pants open, the first boy frantically jerking his hips against his lover, clinging to the back of the couch as they humped in their pee-drenched clothing.

Damian clicked the second video open, watched a girl crouch in a dressing room, finger her clit for a few seconds, and then start to spray her pee all over the carpet, the hiss of it loud even if her pee hitting the floor wasn't.

Shoving his own pants down, he grabbed himself and started to pump his cock, nearly panting as he ramped up quick and hard, straining from how good it felt. The girl finished and it flipped to another video of a security cam showing a girl come into the dressing room, put her clothing on the hook, and then rip down her pants and bend over at the waist, her pee spraying out behind her all over the floor, turning the spots where it hit darker.

Damian clenched his jaw, stroked faster, arching his hips now, thighs trembling as he watched yet a third girl come into a dressing room and pull down her jeans to hover over the plush ottoman and unleash her torrent upon it. His cock throbbed and he barely held back his cry as he started to cum, thick pulses shooting out over the floor between his legs, some of it probably hitting the bottom of the laptop. The instant he was done cumming, his bladder surged and he grabbed hold of himself hard, pinching the tip as he started to dribble. 

This had been the plan - to work himself up so much he couldn’t help but have an accident - but it didn't leave it panicking him any less. A lengthy squirt of piss sprayed across the carpet and he shoved the laptop aside, reaching for his hamper and yanking his towel from yesterday out. He stuffed the material around his cock, let his head thump back against the wall, and relaxed. Warmth filled the towel around his cock and he felt more relief than he had in months, felt pleasure slide through his veins in a way nothing else tended to allow. 

He peed until the towel was wet in his hands and then he grabbed another item from the hamper, his sweats from his workout this morning and he dropped them on the floor, moving the towel off his dick and watching as he just peed full-force across his sweats, felt his arousal surging and by the time he was done pissing, he'd ditched the wet towel between his legs and had resorted to humping the air. The last few dribbles slid down his shaft and into his underwear and that was all it took to set him off a second time, this time with a loud cry he couldn't stop, his hips snapping harshly against the air as he shot his load right across the towel and his sweats. 

Easing back against the wall, he took in unsteady breath after unsteady breath, shivering as he came down from his self-created high. He closed his eyes and he allowed himself - just for one moment - to enjoy what he'd just done.

His shame, he decided, could wait.


End file.
